Michael Walked Out of His Office the Day Four-Year-Old Noah Called About a Broken Arm

He took a folded forty-dollar check out of his shirt pocket.

Lena didn’t reach for it.

She looked past Michael at the idling blue truck.

The driver’s window was tinted dark.

“Just stick it in the mailbox,” Lena said.

“It’s right here in my hand.”

“Put it in the box, Michael.

Now.”